Bits and Pieces
by LunaStellaCat
Summary: Benjy Fenwick, like all men, is made from bits and pieces. This is written for the Lent Challenge on the Golden Snitch. Thanks for reading. Reviews and comments would make my day. Thanks for reading.
1. Wednesday

This is written for the Lent Challenge on the Golden Snitch Forum. Vivi beta'd this, so she's saved me on this one. Thanks to her.

This is for Tiggs. Thanks for your patience, kindness, and understanding.

It started on a Wednesday.

Amelia ruled with a disciplined hand, so when she struck their child for causing a scene in Flourish & Blotts, Benjy pulled a straight face and pretended like nothing out of the ordinary had happened; he leafed through the pages of a book, thanked the publisher from Obscurus Books for considering his manuscript, and purchased a boxed set on a whim.

The words he'd wanted to say turned to ash in Benjamin Fenwick's mouth.

Charlie turned towards Benjy, fat tears swimming in his green eyes as his bottom lip quivered. He shared Benjy's fair hair and his good looks, though he might be lanky and towering over his schoolmates when he'd get older.

"This is where it stops." Amelia steered him out of the store and Benjy followed, taking Charlie's hand out of his mother's. Charlie wiped away invisible tears and whimpered like a dog, but she continued walking as she checked her watch. "I don't have time for this! I get forty-five minutes for downtime. And he acts like I'm murdering him."

"Yeah, well, he's this many." Benjy picked up Charlie and flashed three fingers in Amelia's face. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

Benjy, stocky and muscular, marched after Amelia when she continued on her way. A pendant, a cross, went up and down on his chest as he heaved a sigh. He hated whenever she'd reason with Charlie like a miniature adult. She had let Benjy sit on the sidelines for two and a half years as the house-husband as he worked from home; he loved having the opportunity to witness his son changing from a loaf of bread to a tiny human, and he enjoyed escaping to boxing sessions at night.

Amelia wore the trousers in the family, and Benjy didn't even humor her brothers or his sisters about this anymore. She had climbed the ladder in magical criminal law faster than her father, Edward, a revered judge and figure. Benjy proudly said he was a baker's boy who fought as a lawyer for the underdogs.

"Put him down." Amelia counted the minutes as they passed by. "If you encourage him to act this way, Benjy, it's not going to get better. He's wrapped around your little finger likehe's a prince. Shut it down."

"Mama," Charlie whined, pointing at the display window. A plush toy, a dragon, danced in the air thanks to a Levitation Charm. It spun around a collection of Dougal the Dragon books. "I want it."

"No." Amelia jerked her head at Benjy, telling him to get away. Charlie crumpled into a heap on the floor, bawling. She walked away, her square jaw set. "I have a disposition."

"Amelia. Wait." Benjy stopped between his son and his wife.

"I cannot waste time." Amelia waited for Charlie to waddle over to her and knelt awkwardly in front of him, shifting at an odd angle. She lowered her voice and said softly, "Charles. You can't act like this with your baby sister on the way. Are you a baby?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Do you want me to treat you like a baby?" Amelia took his pudgy hand away from his face. "Answer me."

"No, Mama." Charlie stood and contemplated his untied red trainers. Amelia fixed this problem and kissed his thick curls, promising to see him at dinnertime. She usually made it home around seven after a twelve-hour marathon shift. She put in at hearty fifty hours, keeping up with her gentleman counterparts; Amelia hoped to sign on as partner any day now.

Benjy left Charlie with the bookstore manager while the fellow searched for the Book of Invisibility. He chased after Amelia, wanting a word. They never went to bed early or argued in front of their son, but neither of these things applied at the moment.

"You'll have plenty of time for me," he said, cutting across her before she ran away. Benjy took off on afternoons because Charlie needed to remember the old batty cat lady, Arabella Figg, wasn't his mother. She needed to come up for fresh air. "Are you going to have this kid and pass it off after your maternity leave, too?"

"You write your books. I don't know why you take cases." Amelia sacrificed herself for the Ministry for Magic and seemed to forget she could be both mother and lawyer. Elphinstone Urquart had trained them both from scratch and their paths veered off in different directions. "I never told you to throw in the towel."

"Yes, I chose to not let our son be raised by strangers. Let's argue this again." Heated, Benjy grabbed her by the wrist and applied pressure there. He had never put this thought in words, and when he finally came out and said it, it sounded like it came from a stranger. "You're a bitch."

Amelia nodded. "There it is. You feel better?"

"No." He regretted this move immediately, knowing there was no taking it back.

"I hear it a lot. Not from my husband. But your sisters … four out of five of them blame me. Why are you bothering to have another child with me?" Amelia laughed mirthlessly. "Ask me for a divorce."

"I can't." Catholics, devout ones, didn't believe in such a thing. His father, a friendly chocolatier and pastry chef, stayed with a statue of a wife for forty years and counting.

"You think on that," said Amelia. She turned on her heel.

She wasn't cold by nature. People actually liked her. After this war had slaughtered her family, Amelia had hardened and found protection in a blank expression, hiding herself behind a mask. Some Death Eater had sent her on a scavenger hunt to find her mother floating facedown in the Thames. After her father, Edward, had gotten poisoned during a trial in 1976, she had left the courtroom and locked herself in the house.

"Please give me my wife back," he said, not caring he pled with her. He tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and pressed his lips against hers. "This will end. You're dead inside, and I can't… I can't find you."

"I am right here." Amelia always gave him the same answer. She walked back into the bookstore, purchased the children's book set, the toy, and a bag of chocolate sweets and ruffled Charlie's hair again. She left without another word after she handed Benjy a sealed letter.

Charlie thanked her too late. He took Benjy's hand, confused and lost. "Mama is angry with me. I did something wrong."

"Oh, no, sweet boy, no." Benjy hugged him and it slowly dawned on him he couldn't start to explain this to himself. He opened the chocolate bar with his teeth, tore off a chunk, and swallowed cheap stuff. He gave the rest to Charlie and grimaced at the manager. "Your chocolate tastes like sandpaper, my friend. Shit."

Charlie repeated him, unintentionally adding a new word to his vocabulary. Benjy swore again. Charlie learned another curse, although Benjy doubted he understood the meaning behind it.

"Filter, Benjamin." Benjy reminded himself. The manager offered him a quick tip: use pejoratives or substitute kinder words. "Yeah, I tried that. I met Cornelius Fudge, Junior Minister, last week and I can't look that man in the eye anymore."

He thanked the proprietor, left his unfinished manuscript and his book set, and disappeared further into Diagon Alley.


	2. Faith

He loved his wife, respected, and admired her, and Benjy sometimes admitted he liked her. This got tossed around as a jest, thrown out there for chuckles, but since yesterday, he asked himself why he had married this tomboyish control freak with a legal brain to rival Tiberius Ogden on his best or worst day. Benjy lay beside a woman he now saw as a stranger. Forget a one night stand.

Benjy got labeled a cheater by default. He washed his hands of Amelia's bitchiness, though he had learned his lesson and kept his mouth shut. Benjy suddenly saw the flaws: a grueling lawyer, she chose a fight with her gentlemanly colleagues and chose the courtroom over the family. Benjy got home at five o'clock every day. She barely talked to him and never thanked him for the dinners. He lived a secret nightlife, usually by some hastily assigned alias crafted by Mad-Eye Moody, and she knew something was wrong.

Amelia Bones knew things.

She walked circles around him in the courtroom. Because of a handful of laws dealing with a conflict of interest, they never saw each other as opponents. The law protected Benjy, and he let the word of whoever do the work; the dead wizards and witches with names only remembered in landmark cases and decisions deserved a thank you.

Amelia snored, waking herself up from sleep and nodded off with her mouth open. Charlie had sandwiched himself between them, but Benjy carted him off to bed because this led to another stupid argument having nothing to do with their three-year-old.

They'd been playing a waiting game. Benjy went to confession and shared everything in a cryptic language to his Muggle priest, a young man from Belfast. It weighed on him, and Benjy feared for his soul for the first time in his life. Faith, his faith, helped him get out of bed and get through the day.

He put this to bed. Benjy hated her. He'd married a feminine Edward Bones, except Amelia came with added benefits. Not friends with benefits. She started to wake up as he climbed on top of her. It had started raining, a sign of good luck because it washed all the stuff away, and he wanted to stay in bed all day. It felt good, really good, yet all the warmness or gooeyness ended when they got out of this bed.

"You want to go again?" Benjy caught his breath, laughing when she called him names. Old Amelia, happy-go-lucky Amelia, distracted him with kisses and laughter, and Benjy really, really wanted to tell his client he suffered from a twenty-four hour whatever. She nodded. Benjy silenced the snooze button on the alarm clock. "I like the sweet spot."

"What?" Amelia, confused, no doubt picking apart his words, went for sex instead of drama.

"Kenzie and Martha want to hear from you. My sisters wished for a girly girl and you showed up in a cashmere business suit on our wedding day. You walked down the aisle in the rain. Remember?" Benjy kissed her breasts, puffy pillows like perfect beignets and longed to get back to their happily ever after.

"I love you." Amelia stroked his face.

A trace of emotion, although he felt things across a spectrum of feelings. Benjy stopped. As a kid, a fat, spoiled boy, the only boy in the family, Benjy had learned not to expect too much of a good thing. In this moment, Amelia lay there like chocolate chip cookies.

He got up, got dressed, and muttered about going to work. Amelia sighed, frustrated, and draped her hand over her face.

"Are you .. are you crying?" Benjy had never known her to shed a tear, not in their eleven years together. Maybe she did this in private. Amelia walked through hell and fire, yet she always managed to land on her feet like a cat.

"No. You'll be late. Get going." Amelia controlled her breathing and shoved her emotions deep down. Her voice came out steady. She muttered about takeaway, a suggestion he shot down because her figure had gone to hell with this child. "You are unfair."

He threw out a number he'd glimpsed on a scale. Amelia answered him with a rude hand gesture, and Benjy deserved this one. With five sisters, five chatty, baby-making sisters, he knew better than to play this card. She laughed, surprising him, for he'd expected the water works and force feeding her apologies for opening his big mouth.

"Rabbit food and baked chicken." Lawyers spent their lives dancing with compromises. Benjy pulled on a scarf, headed down the corridor, and flailed around as she sniffed in the background. "Chocolate cake."

Benjy could've made it as a baker's boy. He'd considered helping his father out after leaving Hogwarts, yet his uncle had insisted on him taking the challenge instead of the easy way out. Baking, especially binge baking, took him back to his overweight, overjoyed skewed happy place.

Amelia needed a day off. On his way out the door, he wrote Elphinstone a letter and suggested Amelia could enjoy a long weekend. She worked Saturdays and Sundays, too, and Benjy often joked she considered billable hours the only ones worth her valuable time. She'd be furious Benjy pulled this move, and he'd probably pay for it later.

Benjy had left the Ministry last year. He logged the least amount of hours, so it wasn't a loss by all accounts. Amelia wore the trousers in the family, a breadwinner who fought like a veteran lawyer way beyond her years. He'd hatched a practice with Joshua Phelps, a childhood best friend. Joshua had practiced bankruptcy and family law, and he'd loved Benjy like a brother.

Joshua had been found dead, hung in the rafters of their practice. Benjy had received the message. No mark had touched Joshua's body to hint at the affixation.

As Benjy walked into Fenwick & Phelps, he tapped the hanging sign, a sign designed by Elphinstone. Benjy walked to and from work because he enjoyed grabbing a coffee at the nearby bakery and getting his head in the game.

Minerva McGonagall stood in the office. Benjy didn't think about to lock the door because this place stayed a far cry from the wealthier corporate giants in the heart of London. Benjy spotted her frigid bun and planted a smirk on his face.

He offered her a croissant. "You're missing breakfast, Professor. Please tell me you are in desperate need of legal representation."

"Are we so desperate?" She managed a smile, a rare thing, and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Do you miss him?"

"All the time. I still find myself yelling for him when I read through a decision and find myself on the fence." Benjy moved his hand back and forth. He might be wrong, but he took pride in his and Joshua's small establishment representing both magical and Muggle clients. Minerva sighed, contemplating the hanging sign, and Benjy stood there sipping his coffee.

"Joshua was a good man," she said, nodding.

Joshua hadn't been one of Elphinstone's law students, one of the inner circle, as it were, but they'd grown as friends: Minerva, Benjy, Joshua, Amelia, and Elphinstone. Amelia, the youngest and the female who actually had stayed behind, had showed extraordinary promise. (Minerva had walked away after two years of a fledgling law year.) Minerva had liked Joshua because he had used a typewriter and scrutinized the so-called archaic ways of the magical community.

Benjy conjured a coffee and offered it to her. "Hazelnut creamer."

"I drink tea, thank you," she said a little stiffly. Benjy shrugged because he drank this stuff like coffee. They walked into the office. A handsome staircase led to the other offices. A reception area with handsome furniture filled the ground floor and there were two conference rooms. "You need a partner, Benjamin."

"It's still Fenwick and Phelps." Joshua had proposed they break from the government and enjoy their lives as simple lawyers. Benjy placed his coat over the chair. He didn't need a receptionist.

"Of course." Minerva scanned the place. She'd been here when it stood as nothing more than a foreclosed house. In truth, Amelia covered Benjy's shares. Joshua investment in the partnership belonged to Elphinstone Urquart. She tapped her foot and took the plunge. "If Elphinstone decided to walk away …"

"After forty-two years?" Benjy laughed, but he sobered quickly when he realized he spoke to the Transfiguration teacher. She stayed with the facts and painted a realistic picture, which would've helped her in a law career. Minerva raised her eyebrows and checked her watch. "Mr. Crouch is edging him out, eh?"

"He's in his sixties," said Benjy, smirking when Minerva said sixty-six.

"He's brilliant," she said, casting him a sharp look. Benjy did not dare challenge her on this because Elphinstone trained and raised him or whatever. She shrugged, not pressing the point. Sure, Elphinstone was white-haired, a little deaf and gone to seed but he knew his stuff. She rolled her eyes when Benjy flashed a knowing smile. "Shut up."

"Professor!" The sides of Benjy's mouth twitched as he found a crack in her austere demeanor. Minerva didn't correct herself. A private person, she kept her life wife Elphinstone behind closed doors and paid no attention to the idiots who thought she entertained an old man. Benjy shrugged. "If he wants to. I don't care. Why consider retirement at the Ministry to come here? He'd better not let Barty steal his clientele."

"What do you take him for? An idiot? No." Minerva gestured around the humble place. Elphinstone had slowly directed his clientele towards Benjy. Benjy drew a chair in midair and she sat down, saying she had class at right. "Barty will find one day he reaches for things far out of his grasp, I'm afraid, and while Elphinstone might not aspire … he's a good attorney."

Benjy nodded affirmatively, though he was the last person in the world who needed to hear this. "He made a baker's boy into a man."

Minerva smiled again, getting to her feet as she checked the time and wrapped the cloak around herself. "I know."

"He's bored out of his mind, isn't he?" It seemed like a step down to Benjy. At thirty-three, if Benjy wasn't married to a woman who made bank, he'd pound the pavement for prospective cases.

Minerva inclined her head.

"Marry him." Benjy threw this suggestion out lightly. The question of marriage stood out as a joke among Minerva and Elphinstone's friends, mostly those within the legal community, yet Benjy was the only one who really openly said anything.

Minerva sighed, not saying anything. "Present this to Mr. Urquart like it's his idea."

"He has a client," she said, heading towards the door. Benjy asked who. He'd not expected her to answer, for Elphinstone knew to protect his prospective clients. "She's a Squib. Elphinstone says you know her husband. Or you knew her husband. He committed suicide."

"Rory Figg?" Benjy walked her to the door and landed on the name. Minerva nodded. Rory Figg had died last month. He didn't have to think twice about his taking this case. The only thing he knew about Mrs. Figg is that she liked cats. "I'll take it."

"He'll be delighted." She squeezed his hand and hugged him. "Goodbye. Say hello to Amelia for me?"

"I'll send your regards to my wife if you send mine to your husband," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He conjured an image of the crazy cat woman as Minerva transformed into a tabby and disappeared down the street. He found a manila folder she'd left with case histories and the copy of a will, no doubt Elphinstone's work, and started to read.


End file.
